


The Final Turn

by magicknickers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, One-Shot, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicknickers/pseuds/magicknickers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels like madness as the world rewinds around you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Some warnings: Angst. Abuse of the second-person tense. One-sided, unrequited love. Also, this is a time-turner fic.

You don't really know what you're doing as you tug the golden chain out from underneath your robes. The cool metal slides against your too-hot skin, making goose bumps break out all over your chest.  
  
You try not to think too hard as you spin the familiar rings, manipulating them until the runes align properly. A shaky sound leaves you as you make the final turn.  
  
It feels like madness as the world rewinds around you. People come and go too quickly for you to identify them, but you know that they're there. Even though you know they can't see you, your heart still beats like a scared animal in your chest, banging against your ribcage painfully. There's a fist around your throat as time slows. Everything hurts. You can't tell if it's because of how far you've gone back or a psychosomatic reaction to what you're about to do.  
  
There isn't any yelling in the corridors just yet—you timed it so that it's half passed eleven. If your calculations are correct, you and Ron just left Harry.  
  
This was only three weeks ago, and the details are already hazy. You hope you have the strength to do this right. The consequences of a single mistake could be disastrous.  
  
Wrapping Harry's stolen cloak around yourself, you open the door. Nobody is there to greet you, but you still clasp the edges of the cloak tightly, so scared that you feel faint.  
  
Somehow, you find your way to the Great Hall without seeing anybody. A chill goes through you, and the fist around your windpipe tightens. Your breath comes in quick, shallow pants. Bile churns inside your stomach, curling up behind your tongue. You think you may throw up.  
  
You think you may die.  
  
Drifting into the Great Hall like a ghost, your hands begin to sweat. You spot him near Harry, at the far end of the room with Professor McGonagall and most of the Order. Kingsley sends him off with Arthur and then follows behind. As the man you came to save gets closer to you, unaware of the fact that you are right there, right there in front of him, a part of you rejoices.  
  
His head snaps up, amber gaze scanning the area in which you're hiding, next to the doorway so that you can follow behind. Werewolves have extremely keen senses, how could you have been so careless? You try to quiet your breathing. After a moment, he continues walking and you slip out after him. The fist clamps harder, making it almost impossible to breathe at all.  
  
You've gone too far back and you know it. As you retch and heave while stumbling behind them, you're amazed that Remus hasn't turned around and yanked the cloak away. His back is stiff and his ears are perked up like an animal's. When he tells Kingsley and Mr. Weasley to take a different route outside, you know he hears you.  
  
Amazingly, the fist loosens almost imperceptibly, allowing you to walk upright again. Even more amazingly, Remus doesn't acknowledge you, still ignoring his senses. He's gotten good at it, having done it for over twenty years. It's odd, thinking about Remus as that old. Over twice your age.  
  
You feel like a desparate child as you follow, steps quickening to catch up. By now you're outside, the bitter wind nipping at your sensitive flesh through the thin covering that the cloak provides. He looks unfazed, wand held tightly in his left hand.  
  
You love him. More than Ron, more than Harry, even more than magic.  
  
You aren't delusional. He's a married man. You'll never be able to kiss those lips, caress that golden skin. But you don't think you'll survive his death.  
  
The battle begins soon after the strike of midnight. It feels like you're going into shock—Death Eaters are everywhere and you don't think you can do this all over again—but then Dolohov is in front of you, shooting bloody curses and Avada Kedavra's everywhere.  
  
Swallowing the last of your guilt and nervousness, you do what you came here to do.  
  
Squaring your wand on the Death Eater in front of the man you love, you whisper the forbidden curse. A jet of green light cuts through the darkness.  
  
That's all you see before you're scrambling with your hourglass. You need to leave now. As you look up in relief, Remus's eyes meet yours.  
  
There's something like pity there, and horror, too. For some reason, you feel like sobbing as the battle disappears around you.  
  



End file.
